


shit now I'M the fang ass

by WitchoftheMareBeast



Category: Original Work
Genre: THIS NEEDS TO STOP, vampire!blunt-chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 02:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8383852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchoftheMareBeast/pseuds/WitchoftheMareBeast
Summary: Well shit. Now she's the fang ass.





	

"Nnnngh..."

  
The unattractive sound fell from Blunt's mouth the second she woke up. For a starter, the room was dark, so she couldn't see well, which irritated her. And a follow up being that her head was pounding. She always went overboard when it came to partying, but she was sure last night's party was something she hadn't experienced in a long time. The thrill of something new. The rush of excitement.

  
In short, she got drunker than usual. It was a party no different then the ones that she's been to before, but the alcohol was good enough that she got more smashed than she usual did at these things. Hell, she didn't even know the people who invited her. In all seriousness, these random people approached her and invited her. Sure, sneaking out will surely piss off the fang asses she lived with regularly, but oh well.

  
"Goddamn alcohol... shit too good for me. Rum Chata... damn. I could get a bigger ass just by drinking a damn bottle of that shit. Ugh, vanilla vodka was put to fuckin' shame in the dirt..."

  
"I see you're awake."

  
That voice. The voice that belonged to Ass Tight Boxers. That was the last voice she would want to be woken up to. It was nowhere near serene or gentle. It just had this sound of asshole to it that she hated to listen to even when she was wide awake. What could this asshole want at this hour? Whatever hour it was, anyway. Blunt didn't care, to be honest. She couldn't give a rat's ass if it was dinner time and she'd been asleep all day long. She's been that badly hung over in the past.

  
With a huff, she rolled onto her side, opening her eyes and glaring at Ass Tight Boxers. Her sunglasses weren't on her face.

  
"Fuck you want...?" Blunt mumbled, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes. "My head is fuckin' _pounding_. When did I come home last night?"

  
"You never left."

  
Blunt blinked, then looked back to him. "I went to some wild ass party last night... didn't I? Man, I drank a giant bottle of Rum Chata..."

  
"You didn't."

  
Opened her mouth to yawn, arching her back as she stretched. She slowly sat up, pushing herself with one hand while another gripped at her head. Ass Tight Boxers was right - she didn't drink last night. There was no distant taste of alcohol on her tongue and her head felt like it was pounding for a different reason. Blunt actually felt moderately depressed. She'd just been dreaming of drinking Rum Chata this entire time. She's always dreamed of it, but of course, last night was just another lie. She never went to any party. It was all in her head, apparently.

  
Wow, the weed she got from that one man with horns has really began messing her up lately.

  
She closed her mouth, though her lip got caught on her teeth.

  
Odd. Her mouth felt weird, most of all. Usually when she woke up, her lips would be tingling for a cigarette, a blunt, or a shot of something, but this felt almost different. She ran her tongue across her lips, then across her teeth, stopping when she felt something odd. Her canines felt weird. Bigger. Pointier...

  
She looked around the room at all of them. They were all here. All six. With a sigh, she rubbed her forehead. She doesn't have time for this shit. She's too tired. It's only been a total of a minute since she's been awake and she's already too tired for this shit.

  
"I'm a fang ass now, aren't I?"

  
"The Awakening happened quicker then we thought."

  
"Awaken the fucking decency you have inside your cold dead heart and tell me if I can still down a bottle of alcohol and have it fuck me up just like I like it."

  
Ass Tight Boxers, as usual, ignored her pedantic quips. Or at least to him they were pedantic quips. Blunt wasn't a pedant - nor were her favorite things in the world, even if it was just weed and alcohol.

  
"...Alcohol will still effect you as it has. Don't worry."

  
"What about - "

  
"As well as your... weed."

  
Blunt sighed a sigh of relief, a sensation of euphoria coming over her body. So what, now she's a fang ass? Oh well.

  
"Hop to it then, you dirty rain puddle. Roll me a blunt."

  
"We should really talk about - " Ass Tight Boxers began, but she waved him off.

  
"Blunt."

  
"But - "

  
"Blunt. Something. Hell, I'll take a cigarette."

  
And finally, he growled. Crossing his arms and setting a stern gaze upon her, challenging it with her own, he spoke.

  
"You're out of cigarettes, I can tell you that. You smoked all of them last night. Your alcohol is gone because of that guy drinking all of it with that woman. Your weed... well, only you know about that."

  
Blunt took a deep breath, actual tears stinging her eyes as she felt around for the knife she remembered thoroughly possessing the night before.

  
"Aight then. Good night, my mates. I'd rather die if I ain't got none of the good shit."

  
Considering she wasn't going to listen to what actually happened, the six brothers lurched forward at once, all prepared to rip that godforsaken knife out of her hands.

  
It was the entire reason, after all, that she ended up like this.


End file.
